Harry returns from Hogwarts Legacy

Chapter 373 Extra 5: Miss Malfoy

Harry knew he was all alone here, completely isolated, with no one to rely on.

What if the school board stops funding if the student performs poorly?
All he can do is study hard.

He also lit his wand quickly after Cassandra Malfoy.

“Well done, Mr. Potter,” Professor Ronan affirmed. “Five points for Gryffindor!”

The Gryffindor students cheered, especially Gareth.

Subsequently, siblings Sebastian Saru and Anne Saru also completed the Illumination Charm.

After class, Professor Ronan kept Harry behind.

“I can see that, Mr. Potter,” Professor Ronan said with a chuckle. “You have quite a talent for spells—you’re Muggle, aren’t you? I mean, your parents were both Muggles?”

“I don’t know, Professor,” Harry said honestly. “I don’t know what my parents do, but my aunt says they don’t know magic.”

Yes, how could someone who knows magic die in a car accident?
“I’m sorry.” Professor Ronan smiled gently and said to Harry, “If you would like, you can come to the Charms classroom before dinner every Tuesday. I will teach you some practical spells.”

Tuesday, which is tomorrow.

“Yes, Professor,” Harry nodded obediently in reply.

After the Charms class, they had their Herbalism class.

The professor of herbalism was a very beautiful young witch with two braids hanging down her chest, looking youthful and radiant.

She loved to laugh, and Harry loved watching her laugh. He loved Herbology class and was even reluctant to skip class.

In fact, the vast majority of male students were like this; they were extremely serious in herbal medicine class.

Transfiguration was taught by Professor Weasley. Although she was the vice-principal and head of Gryffindor, she was not strict at all. Harry thought she was much kinder than Mrs. Hawkins, who had taught him math in the Muggle world.

However, Professor Weasley appeared extremely serious during the first class.

“Transfiguration is the most complex and dangerous spell you will ever learn at Hogwarts,” she said. “I hope you understand this spell correctly. If you dare to use Transfiguration on your classmates, I will have Mr. Gladwin Mohn punish you.”

After saying that, she waved her wand and turned the Transfiguration textbook in front of Harry into a toad. The toad hopped around, first crawling onto Harry's face, and then sticking its tongue out at the students behind him.

Harry wasn't scared at all. First, he was very familiar with Professor Weasley, and second, there was nothing to be afraid of about toads. He had a big toad on his head, and he was grinning, showing off his white teeth.

The first lesson of the Transformation course was theoretical.

In Professor Weasley's words, it's never too much to learn the theory first in a Transfiguration class.

But to take care of her classmates' feelings, she still tried to turn a match into a needle in the second half of the class.

She gave each student a match, and after a short while, Cassandra Malfoy transformed the match into a needle with exquisite patterns on it.

"A truly outstanding Transfiguration Charm, Miss Malfoy." Professor Weasley praised sincerely, "Slytherin, ten points!"

However, until the end of get out of class, only Harry made a slight change to his match – the top half remained a match head, while the bottom half became a sharp needle point.

Professor Weasley didn't give him extra points, but instead smiled at him as encouragement and praised him.

Harry felt this wasn't good enough, and perhaps to comfort him, Professor Weasley asked Gareth for a match during his free time, and with his wand in hand, he practiced the Transfiguration spell repeatedly.

“I can tell you’re really nervous,” Gareth said with a shrug, not stopping his friend from doing his after-school practice.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts class on the second morning was the class the students looked forward to the most.

The teacher who teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts is a witch who looks like an old woman, but she is actually not that old. She was Professor Hecate, a former Silence of the Department of Mysteries, who aged into an old woman due to many missions.

She is also the headmistress of Ravenclaw, and her classmates adore her.

In the very first class, Professor Hecate gave everyone a crucial lesson—how to deal with curses.

“The best way is always to dodge,” Professor Hecate said. “What you need to learn now is how to use movement to avoid curses, and when you are in higher grades, you can learn how to use Apparition to avoid spells—remember, dodging is always the best way to deal with them.”

Professor Hecate also told everyone a few interesting anecdotes, all of which were based on her personal experiences when she was in the Department of Mysteries.

Finally, before get out of class ended, Professor Hecate taught them a harmless little curse—the Tarantella dance.

This spell is not difficult at all. Even the smartest-looking student among them—well, the one with the slightly dull eyes who doesn't seem to be very bright—can successfully use this spell.

After class, the first-grade students would occasionally use a Tarantella dance after learning this spell.

Of course, anyone who used this spell to attack other students in the hallway was taken away and put in solitary confinement that same day.

Screams echoed from Mr. Gladwin Mohn's basement.

The next morning, when Lawrence of Gryffindor appeared in the common room, his appearance startled everyone.

His hair was disheveled, and his face was bruised and swollen, clearly indicating that he had suffered considerable abuse.

But he seemed to be in good spirits.

"That's not even as hard as the beatings my dad used to give me," he said, beaming. "Is that all you've got? I thought you were really going to put chains through my ribs, haha!"

Harry looked at him with a hint of admiration. "Even this isn't as good as your dad beating you?"
It seems the Dursleys weren't all that bad.

In fact, he didn't know that a hundred years ago, there was no child protection at all. Child laborers like Dai Ying were everywhere. Just think of a chimney worker who was five years old and had been working for three years.
On Tuesday afternoon, Harry finally got his turn for extra help in Charms class.

He didn't know why Professor Ronan had asked him to have a private tutoring session, but he went anyway.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Gareth said, patting him on the shoulder. “Nothing will happen. Professor Ronan has already spoken to my aunt about it.”

Harry was relieved.

"In this lesson, I'm going to teach you how to enhance your application of the Illumination Charm." Professor Ronan drew the curtains in the classroom, plunging it into darkness.

After a while, Professor Ronan used a Transfiguration Charm to conjure several things covered in black robes, which looked rather sinister and terrifying.

"What you need to do now is use the Illumination Charm to drive away such things."

Professor Ronan picked up his wand, and its tip shone with a brilliant light. The black-robed monster closest to him vanished into thin air.

Harry glanced curiously at Professor Ronan, then began to practice. However, the results were less than satisfactory; he couldn't use the Illumination Charm of Professor Ronan's caliber, only managing to barely repel the black-robed monster that lunged at him.

Professor Ronan looked very serious, his eyes fixed on Harry's wand and the monsters that were lunging at him.

When the alarm rang, the curtains were drawn open, sunlight streamed into the classroom, and the black-robed monsters vanished without a trace.

“Not bad, Mr. Potter.” Professor Ronan put away his wand. “I hope that when I see you on Saturday afternoon, you will be able to use a better Illumination Charm.”

Harry nodded, panting, his forehead covered in sweat.

He hesitated a little before leaving.

"What's wrong?" Professor Ronan asked.

"Professor," Harry finally asked, voicing his long-standing question, "why, despite your greatness, are people still saying... well, some things about you?"

Professor Ronan understood what Harry meant.

He chuckled and said, “People don’t believe an Indian wizard can be a competent professor. Well, what you need to do now is go back to the auditorium, have a hot drink, and eat something to replenish your energy.”

“I understand, thank you, Professor,” Harry said earnestly.

On Wednesday, they had a history of magic lesson, and Harry was a little excited, but Gareth told him not to get excited so soon.

"Why?" Harry asked, puzzled. "Don't you want to know about the epic history of the wizarding world?"

“Oh, of course I want to.” Gareth rolled his eyes. “But the problem is, the professor for this course—well, you’ll find out when you get there.”

Sure enough, Harry found out why during class.

This is the only course taught by a ghost. It is said that Professor Binns fell asleep in front of the fireplace in the faculty lounge and forgot to bring his body with him when he went to class the next morning, which shows that Professor Binns was indeed very old.

During class, Professor Binns lectured in a monotonous and tedious voice, while the students hastily jotted down names and dates, confusing the villain Murrick with the eccentric Yurik.

"All I want to do right now is sleep," Harry said to Gareth, his eyelids drooping.

Gareth was already asleep, but he was still smacking his lips, as if he had tasted something delicious.

On Friday, Harry had his first Potions class ever.

Potions... they sound so exciting! Harry has read potion books and really wants to learn how to concoct those incredibly magical potions...

“I also think Potions class would be great,” Gareth said expectantly. “Just think about it, Potions class is a treasure trove…”

Treasure?

Yes, it is indeed a treasure.

Harry agreed with Gareth's point; wasn't Potions a treasure trove waiting to be discovered?
Potions class was held in an underground classroom. It was much colder and more gloomy than the main castle building up above.

Glass jars lined the wall, their contents of animal specimens soaking inside sending chills down your spine.

The potions teacher was Professor Sharp, a middle-aged wizard with slightly long hair and a full beard, who looked quite weathered.

He was also the head of Slytherin.

Professor Sharp picked up the attendance list during class.

When he pointed to Gareth, he clearly paused for a moment and even looked up at Gareth.

"Potions is a very precise subject," Professor Sharp said, resting his elbows on the podium and looking at the students below. "The proportions for potions are extremely precise, allowing no deviation whatsoever—any deviation could drastically alter the potion's effects, even turning a life-saving potion into a deadly one. Therefore, I hope you will pay attention in class, instead of sitting there daydreaming, like Mr. Weasley—"

As he spoke, he picked up a piece of chalk and threw it at Gareth's head.

"Ouch!" Gareth cried out in pain; that chalk hit him perfectly.

“Gryffindor has lost a point because of Mr. Weasley,” Professor Sharp said expressionlessly. “I hope you will remember this lesson, Mr. Weasley.”

Gareth responded with an "Oh."

Professor Sharp spoke again.

"Your task for today is to prepare medicine for scabies. Work in pairs—of course, I hope you won't be grouped by college, but rather randomly divided into new groups, understand?"

Everyone understood what he meant: it wasn't Gryffindor teaming up with Gryffindor, but rather Gryffindor and Slytherin teaming up.

Perfectly, both colleges have twelve students each.

Just as Harry was wondering who he should contact, an extremely arrogant voice suddenly rang in his ears.

"You, bastard."

He turned around and saw the proud blonde little girl, who held her head high and looked down at him, saying, "You're in my group."

“Yes, Miss Malfoy,” Harry replied immediately.

There was no way around it; the Malfoys were on the school board.

Harry dared not offend this young lady. What if she stopped funding him or kicked him out of school?
Potions class continued, while Professor Sharp strolled gracefully through the underground classrooms, watching them dry nettles and crush snake fangs.

Almost all the students were slapped on the back of the head by Professor Sharp—except for Harry and Miss Malfoy.

Harry felt he might be doing this thanks to Miss Malfoy; he was basically doing all the work for her.

It must be admitted that Miss Malfoy also has considerable talent in Potions class. Her process of steaming slugs with tentacles is extremely perfect and can be described as a pleasure to watch.

“I hope you can be of some use, Pott,” Miss Malfoy’s voice rang out coldly. “I hope you can crush the snake’s fangs instead of standing there like a little troll.”

“Yes, Miss Malfoy.”

Harry immediately weighed out the right weight of fangs and carefully ground them into powder in a mortar.

“I’m done, Miss Malfoy.” He handed the fang powder to Miss Malfoy.

Miss Malfoy glanced at the venomous powder with a nonchalant air and continued, "And porcupine quills, Pott, don't make me instruct you on how to proceed to the next step!"

(End of this chapter)